


Losing it

by Somecallmemichelle



Category: Bully (Video Games)
Genre: Gen, Happy Volts, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Mental Institutions, Not A Fix-It, Post-Game(s), Self-Harm, crosspost, the world of bully is fucked up, written as therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2020-06-24 11:10:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19722490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Somecallmemichelle/pseuds/Somecallmemichelle
Summary: After being put in Happy Volts Asylum over the events of Bully, Gary slowly loses his sanity due to remorses over what he did to Petey. Trigger Warning: Self harm.Originally posted on Fanfiction dot net on September 23rd 2015.





	Losing it

**Trigger warning: Self harm.**

The feeling of the metal against his body was, to his surprise, pleasant. It was a small reprieve from all the drama and honest to god punishment that he had been enduring ever since  **that** . And he pushed his lips together. He had kind of lost control there. But then he had always hated the effect those meds had on him. He had claimed they had driven him mad, which was in his mind, his dark oh so twisted mind the truth, and so he hated them.

And so he had stopped taking them. Boarding Schools...they had many problems, one of which was that no one single person gave a single crap about what the students did at the “Zoo”. After all Bullying was rampant, the few prefects that existed barely kept order, the teachers were drunkards and perverts, and the foods was unhygienic. When your alumni are corporate lawyers you don’t tend to adhere to many quality assurance tests. But he digressed, dumped into what was possibly quite the worse school in the country for his age group, and amidst real scum, Gary had done what he had considered necessary to survive.

As he looked around at the small holding cell where he was in. - Happy Volts was one of the old asylums, those that had supposedly been outlawed in the 60’s, and god, wasn’t that revolting? Gary could see stains he’d rather not identify, in the walls and floors, though his (in his own opinion) brilliant mind wasted no time in trying to. Maybe he should have taken those meds. After all what could be worse than being stuck in this? This place where he… - Banging his hands against the walls and hearing the reverb as the sound traveled through the metal. Like they were expecting him to try and escape through the 3 feet of thick iron walls. - But at the time, of course he had wanted nothing to do with that. They were making him stupider and dumber and a whole lot of other disgusting things. Gary had stopped taking them.

Faced with doing nothing for almost 24 hours a day, except sleep and look at the walls and stains in his walls, besides taking his meds (which luckily for his sanity also made him sleepy so he slept a lot), he pondered a lot about what had happened to his “friends”. Well friends in finger quotes, he didn’t really have friends, he had used everything and everyone in his path to the way of school conquest. James, Petey, Russell, the dumb broad guy...who couldn’t even hold a conversation. He held a smirk at that. Those had come out fine...he hadn’t come out so well. For a moment he had been winning, and he had come so close to dominating the school, everything in pure chaos. Gary smith liked chaos, it was like music to his ears.

Then James “Jimmy” Hopkins had gotten ahold of the situation, thrown him off a ladder, made him get seen as unstable and pushed him into here. God how he hated him. But then, now that he was on his meds, he could see how maybe he had gone a little bit overboard.

Not that everything was a battle that he had to win or lose, Petey had hung out by his side, constantly, despite the way he bullied him nearly into oblivion, though that was most likely due to the fact that he was too much of a loser to make other friends. Well besides James . He sometimes wondered why he hadn’t hung out with other nerds. He was particularly good in the Consumo machines, a popular arcade game at school. But that didn’t matter to him anymore. Not while he was here, practically shackled in place in a 10 by 15 cell.

He guessed he should count himself lucky. He was isolated from the other demented patients. Or not so demented he didn’t know. Though he sometimes heard barks, from what he could tell, so, that was definitely not normal, unless there were guard dogs patrolling the premises of Happy Volts, which he doubted, it was probably some deluded fool who thought of himself as a yorkshire, or a wolf.

“Wonder if I can feed him pet cookies” - had been Gary’s first thought as he realised just why and where the sounds of barking came from. The second? - “That guy or gal must have some seriously poor mouth hygiene.” - For how could he or she wash their teeth?

It was no longer news to Gary Smith however, he has become used to it as he had become used to not having room to spread out his legs all that much. really 3 meters was barely enough room to walk. And to have a bed and a toilet to do his needs cramped in there cutting his space even further was even more limiting. 

Ah yes, the bed, the dirty dirty bed, with bed sheets that were rarely if ever swapped, he could swear this ones were almost some years old at least. At least he hadn’t lost control of his bladder, though the sodium bicarbonate stains proved someone had done it at some point prior. Gary had tried to avoid direct contact with those stains, though it had proven hard, old asylums.

He mostly just sat with his back against the wall though, the metal was colder than the few spots illuminated by the streams of sunlight that managed to slip through the high, slim, barred windows, and it was surprisingly not that uncomfortable. Though it was a far cry from what he had had in the past. He just sat, one leg spread out, one kind of folded, hands behind the neck. A smile upon his face. He couldn’t exactly say he wasn’t worried. For he was, what was exactly going to happen wasn’t up to him anymore, he had failed society and now society had deemed him unfit to live among them. But in the meantime he was there, while the process to release him was fought by his parents or someone, he didn’t even know anymore. He was pulled back from all that in that cell.

…

Gary Felt his eyes close, he had taken in his meds willingly. No use resisting when you’re surrounded by ex football players who are now orderlies and who could force your jaw wide open after all. They immediately made him sleepy. It was always like this, he knew the drill, those were meant to sedate him. Though his jokes about rectal examinations had fallen on flat ears. Nobody appreciated a good comedian anymore.

He moved to his bed, pushing the sheets over himself and avoiding the stains, which was hardened by the fact that he was feeling his eyes close already, they were suddenly very very heavy, almost impossible to keep open. His mouth was opening, and yawns were coming out in short bursts.

He felt himself melt into the bed and realised he was dreaming, as if it weren’t obvious enough.

  
  


The first thing he saw were some barnyard animals. Things always started out this way, it was some sort of signature, his signature. He didn’t know why, his mind always tended to take him there first, was it some sort of hidden attraction to animals, like sort sort of furry thing he had seen on the internet when he was younger? He didn’t know. But he saw sheeps and cows and other variants of such barnyard animals. One of them. A sheep with black wool and yellow eyes stood on its hind legs and stared straight at Gary. Gary didn’t move, he had learned to listen to this sheep he had called Mr.Wooly. 

It seemed that Gary’s subconscious had the mind of a 5 year old, but he didn’t question it , the sheep raised itself and spoke to him.

Unfortunately for him Gary wasn’t really listening, perhaps due to the medication, perhaps due to the way he was distracted by all the shiny colors. Gary didn’t get to see many colors, besides grey, from his asylum holding cell, and he was enthralled by it all.

Not that Gary Smith liked pretty colors and was easily distracted...well normally, he had Add, after all. But this was just...whoah. Ever since he had started taking those meds he had started having such vivid dreams. It almost compensated not having the freedom to move around freely through the world. Almost.

“Child, you need to listen, child, please!” - Mr. Wooly was still trying to get Gary Smith to listen to his warnings but he was having no such luck. Whatever the heck he represented in Gary smith. His conscience, his subconscious, his childish glee, Gary was ignoring it.

The scene then shifted. Gary looked around confused, no longer was he around the colorful and bright camps of a farm near a barn and a bunch of sheeps and cows, now he was...he gritted his teeth. Near Bullworth academy, the place where he had risen and fallen so quickly, the place where he had been before being sent to Happy Volts, one of the only asylums to still use electroshock therapy on its patients.

He could see how everything was seemingly normal, the weak were being bullied, the prefects doing nothing except in more severe cases, children were prancing around, fearful for themselves, the jocks were laughing and ruling the school, the nerds barely leaving the area of the library. It was everything seemingly normal.

For Gary, even in dreams it felt...homely. He had hated it here, he had been paranoid and afraid that he was going to get upstaged and destroyed and wrecked out of this place. But it was definitively superior to having some hundred volts running through your body and then some pills shoved in your stomach. It was, without a doubt, better. And he could feel himself getting a tear...and he himself wasn’t even sure of what that tear was for.

Rage? Contempt? Emotion? He definitively feels something and he knows that he has wrecked any change that he might have had. And he knows that if he hadn’t been plotting and scheming and seemingly being a total ass to everyone he would never have been there.

He reminds himself again of the way he treated Petey, Petey who always stood up next to him, protecting him and keeping himself there for him and believing in him. He kicked him in the balls, he called him a liar, he called him every name in the book...and poor gentle Petey never fought back. Well...mostly, he tried once or twice, but he never had the strength to do so fully. Perhaps he was just weak or perhaps he was afraid.

Gary sees Petey, almosts as if he materialises himself in front of him, his pinkish uniform, the one by which Gary made fun of him so many times not bothering him in the slightest.

“Petey, petey!” - Gary literally stumbles forwards, holding onto the figure of Petey, who just stares at him blankly his pupils…

Gary recoils in terror, Petey’s pupils, they are blank, blank and white as if he’s blind and can’t see him. But Gary can’t let that stop him he has to tell him the truth, he has to tell him just how sorry he is.

Putting both hands over Pete’s shoulders, over Kowalwki’s shoulders’ he begs for forgiveness, he pleads, he begs, he says. “I’m sorry.”

But there’s no reply.

Gary gets angry. He calls him out telling him if he wants to be a bullshitter, he can do so, but he won’t beg anymore.

But his conscience just keeps tugging at him.

“Listen Petey, don’t be a dick, Petey, I’m sorry, alright!” - Gary desperately tugs at Petey’s arm, afraid that it’ll rip right off, like some sort of zombie flick, he watched some time back. but it doesn’t instead Petey just stares at him, blankly. At least Gary thinks he’s staring, kind of hard to tell without pupils.

Gary feels himself get lost in the emotions that he’s feeling. Maybe he has truly delved into his insanity at this point he doesn’t really know. He lets out a bitter laugh, that would rival the clown prince’s own.

Petey just stares, umoving, unflinching, were this not a dream Gary would think he’s dead, and...it’s at this point that Gary realises that this is all a dream, a shitty, crazy dream. He tries to wake up, pinching himself, until he draws blood, rivers and rivers of blood seemingly come out of him, he can feel the pain that bursts out of him like he’s stabbing himself, his nails doing a damn fine job at that.

But it doesn’t seem to be working. He’s vaguely aware of his surroundings but they might as well be a black, desolate void for all he cares. He sees an object, he smashes his head against it. He has tears in in eyes, though they don’t register.

Gary moves himself and finds his eyes staring straight upwards, he’s awake. His tongue is so rolled up he can’t scream or flinch or scream. He’s sweating from every inch of skin, every pore of him is open, he’s shaking like crazy. And isn’t that what he is? Crazy? He feels that way certainly? He reminds himself of the image that’s permanently imprinted on his mind.

“Petey”

The hair, the empty eyes, the absence of pupils. It was scary, but it was by no means the scariest part about it all. No, the scariest part about it all was knowing that the true Petey would likely react the same way if met him. Now that James. - And he gritted his teeth.- Jimmy as he prefered to be called was giving him self confidence, he’d abandon him. And why wouldn’t he? He had abused him in every way but the sexual one for years. He deserved it.

Gary stared at the palms of his hands. Pushing the nails into the flesh. It hurt, but he forced himself not to scream. Not like anyone would care what a loony would do anyway, right? It wasn’t like the state cared, and heavens knew the orderlies didn’t either.

He draws blood. Not much, just a tad, a pinch, but the red is definitively there. It’s something, alright, but Gary still feels anger, rising, threatening to spill over, to come. He muffles a scream as he punches himself.

It might look silly, but he doesn’t hold back, he punches with all the strength his wimpy figure has afforded him. It’s not much, gym has never been his favorite discipline, and he’s not James, or a jock. But it makes him see double. He doesn’t bleed from the mouth. He watched Fight Club, he knows he will be able to do it if he wants to. And he can help but draw parallels.

He can finally feel some blood coming out to his mouth, it tastes like metal, most likely iron. Like the walls that surround him. And he yearns for his freedom more than anything. But he can’t, he knows he can’t. He’s a mess, he’s a bloody mess of whimpers.

He spits some of the blood and he realises just how some of those stains got there and that’s he is slowly losing his sanity just like those that came before him. Though he had his sanity at one point, even if just a straw of it.

Not anymore. He finally screams, his hair is disheveled, he’s sweaty, there’s blood in the floor in front of him and in his hands, his nails are dirty, and his face and cheeks are swollen. Who knew that, despite not being that strong, he’d be able to hit that person? Himself? When there’s no resistance even the weak bully the weak.

Hearing the scream that somehow travels through the walls the orderlies come in. They’re rough looking men who are anything but gentle, they were former high school football players or rugby players or other contact sports. They are there to contain the patient, not to soothe them. One of them carries a needle.

At this point Gary doesn’t exactly care what is it in the needle, he feels himself getting shoved to the ground. Enough that he feels that he almost cracked a rib. - It hurts like a mother, and he’s near his own blood, but that doesn’t matter. - and the needle getting jammed into his arm. The liquid travels to his body and he slumps forward, getting picked up.

His last thoughts before falling don’t go to his eventual fate, to the therapy with electroshocks or to the barbarity or the orderlies. To exams or bad conditions, but to Petey. The man he has wronged. Poor poor Petey.


End file.
